Smoking Spectators
Short Story I was with Slick, smoking pot. We were hotboxing my car in the Kroger parking lot. It was dark out, around ten o’clock at night, and we were very high. My...
Tagged: frustration
You Don’t Know What I Know
Poem Keep pressing my buttons why dontcha I’ll give you a chance here and there Let you attack and test my anesthesia I’ll let you stare and glare and compare You don’t know...
The Ghosts Do Not Whisper
Haunting Poem I know not why The ghosts do not whisper As the sequoias softly sigh But calmly I listen Why are the only voices That of the cabin’s moan And the memories...
